


I Hated You (I Loved You, Too)

by Lothiriel84



Category: Parade's End - All Media Types
Genre: Death in Childbirth, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I'm coming back to his side, to put it right.</i> (Kate Bush)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hated You (I Loved You, Too)

**Author's Note:**

> **Please be warned that one of the main characters is already dead by the start of this story. I didn't use the 'Major Character Death' warning since it's only hinted at, but if it's something you don't wish to read about please back away now.**

She’d imagined she would rejoice at the news, or breathe a sigh of relief at the very least; as it happened, her first thought was for Christopher, and a twinge of sympathy lurched in her chest.

Next thing she knew she was on a train for Holborn, her mind set on either charming or arguing her way into her husband’s flat. The servants exchanged apprehensive looks when she announced herself as Mrs Tietjens, but eventually let her in, probably worried that she was going to make a scene or something.

“Mr Tietjens doesn’t wish to see anyone,” the housemaid stated as firmly as she dared to, only to give in under Sylvia’s withering gaze; she was there to see her husband, and no one would keep her from doing as she pleased. She hurried upstairs, pausing when the high-pitched cry of an infant made itself heard through a half-closed door; Christopher’s child, the one thing that Michael would never be, and right in that moment she knew what she had to do. If Christopher loved another man’s child with such intensity, then surely she could bring herself to tolerate a dead woman’s child for her husband’s sake.

Taking a deep breath she tapped her fingers against the door to the master bedroom, pushing it open when she got no answer. Christopher was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the room with unseeing eyes; he did nothing to acknowledge her presence, his laboured breath the only sign that he was indeed still alive.

“Oh, Christopher,” she let out in a pained whisper as she crossed the distance between them and dropped down on her knees. “Christopher, I’m so sorry...”

His gaze flickered to the hand that had covered his own, and he stirred as if waking from a terrible dream. “Sylvia?”

“I’m sorry for your loss, darling,” she told him as gently as she knew how; an anguished sob escaped his throat, and she held him as he finally surrendered to grief and wept.

“You’ll make it though, I promise,” she murmured over and over again, until he eventually yielded to her embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “We both will.”

Because she was still his wife, and she would stand by him regardless of all the times they’d hurt one another in the past. He was hers, and that was where she belonged.


End file.
